Two Words Change a Life
by amyaghaj
Summary: Laurel Greenlaw signs her death certificate with the words, "I volunteer" after her friend gets reaped for the 24th Annual Hunger Games. Representing District 7, Lumber, Laurel must overcome her deepest fears and make it home to her family and friends. Set 50 years before the Girl on Fire even steps foot in the arena, Laurel will capture the hearts of the Capitol.
1. Chapter 1

I was having one of those things again. Nightmares, they called it. The head doctor told them it was my PTSD. They told me I was different now, a victor. My face hung in an indifferent expression. My eyes supposedly lost their shine. The only time I smiled was with her because she took it all away. She was my only real friend. She was the only person that stayed with me when I had my nightmares. I thought she only did it because I volunteered for her. I knew she wouldn't make it one second in the arena, but I could at least put up a good fight. She wouldn't die in their sick games. She wouldn't be their martyr, but I would.

~00~

It was a cold day in District 7. The snow fell like a blanket, enveloping the entire district in white. This was the time when more people stole wood, more people were publicly tortured, and more people died. This was Panem, our lovely cheerful Panem. The Peacekeepers were on the lookout for thieves, the ones that stole small bits of lumber from the yards. Every scrap of wood, no matter how miniscule, went to the Capitol, along with the boy and girl that were reaped each year to participate in the Hunger Games.

My mother disappeared a few months after I was born. I lived 14 years of my life with my dad only. I never had a mother figure. When I was young, my father taught me the ins and outs of lumberjacking. He said that just in case he got hurt in some strange accident he wanted me to be able to provide for myself. There was a freak accident and he died from a tree falling on him, or at least that's what the Peacekeepers told me. For weeks after the news broke, I wouldn't pick up an ax. Of course, that was more than two years ago. During the few weeks were I was scared; I couldn't stay at home. It reminded me too much of him. I only spent time there when I had to like sleeping or when it was raining. The food ran short and then suddenly it just disappeared. There was no money for me. No one wanted to hire a distraught 14 year old who had no place to go. I was out on the streets begging for some extra money, running on the burnt scraps from the bakery.

One day, I was sitting on the steps of the Justice Building after just taking out tesserae. The baker's burnt bread was still hot in my hands and the single coin from the butcher was in my pocket. My clothes were dirty and hair dishelved. The dirt found its way under my fingernails and into my boots, probably through the mulitple holes. I was an utter mess. No one wanted to be friends with the worthless orphan girl from the dark part of 7, the area where all the poor lumberjacks lived. Yet, there was some sense of pity instilled in the hearts of some. People felt sorry about my situation, but even I didn't have it as bad as others. I was so alone in the world, but that was until I met Cassie, the daughter of the tailor who lived in the nicer part of District 7. She was coming into the square with a little wagon behind her and inside it were fabrics. I had hardly noticed her appearance and I thought she wouldn't even bother to notice me. Instead of ignoring me like the rest of the people in the square she wheeled her wagon over and handed me a small stack of coins. "Go get something better to eat than toast," she said, smiling.

I wasn't in much of a postion to argue, so I smiled and thanked her politely before running off into the market area to buy a nice dinner. That night I had cheese and fruit with perfectly baked bread. I would never forget her kindness. That wasn't the last time I saw her. She was waiting in the square the next day, rather early in the morning. The sun was just rising in the sky, tinting the world a beautiful orange color. This was the time when I woke up every morning in my desolate home that had no furniture or anything else. The water ceased to run into it. The walls began to warp and the floor was covered over in a thin layer of dust from lack of caretaking. The only thing left in the small house was a matress, a bucket for water, and my father's ax. Every morning I would wake up and slip on my holely shoes before walking toward the square to beg for money. That morning after my grand feast I saw her again with her little wagon. This time, though, it seemed as though her wagon was rather empty. She looked up at me from the steps of the Justice Building, her hazel eyes framed by her cat-eye eyeliner and short, straight brown hair barely touching her shoulders. Her pants were a dark blue and her shirt rather low cut for a girl her age. I was jealous of her lavish attire though and almost felt unworthy just to be in her presence. It was a rarity that the rich people of District Seven ever crossed into the square or the poor parts of the district, unless it was reaping day. I smiled slightly at her.

"Thank you again for the money yesterday. I had a lot more than just bread," I told her, initating the conversation before she did.

Her mouth upturned in a small grin. "You're very welcome. I'm Cassie," she responded, holding out a hand for me to shake. Hesitantly I returned it and shook her hand firmly.

"I'm Lau-" I started but she cut me off.

"I know who you are. You're Laurel Greenlaw. Your dad died a few weeks ago. He was a lumberjack, right?" she asked and I nodded barely. "Why aren't you out cutting down trees?"

To be honest, I was baffled by how much she actually knew about me and by her question. I didn't really have a proper response other than that I was scared, but I didn't want anyone to know that about me. All I could do was shake my head.

"You're scared, aren't you? You're scared to go out there where he died, right?" she pushed and then paused before continuing, "Look, you're not going to get anywhere by begging. Go out in that forest and show them that you aren't pathetic. I know there's a strong girl somewhere inside you."

I couldn't respond to that because I really didn't know how to. What was I supposed to say? Instead of actually saying words I looked in her eyes and gave a small shrug. She reached her hand into her wagon and pulled out a pair of nice brown combat boot that went a few inches above the ankle. "You looked like you could use some new shoes," she said softly and then pulled out a pair of dark jeans like the ones she was wearing, "and maybe some pants." She was being way to nice to me and maybe she had some alterior motives. Or maybe not.

"You really don't have to do this for me," I said, looking in her eyes, smiling for the first time in a while. I tired to hand the boots and pants back but she wouldn't take them.

"No. No. Take them. I told my dad about you and he wanted me to give these to you," she said, "So I suggest you take them and get out of those raggedy old clothes." I was taken aback by the kindness of her family. Where they really in such a position that they could just give money to poor scraps like me? I wondered what it must have been like to have more than you needed. It must have been great.

Days later, I was wearing the clothes she gave me and we met every morning in the square to talk about district events. Sometimes she brough me a little gift and other times I brought her a little flower from from the meadow right by the forest. She would put it in her hair and then go around the square, running her errands. After a week or so I told her that I was going to finally pick up my father's ax and go work in the forest.

At first, she smiled but then frowned. "You won't be around in the mornings anymore then, right?" She was going to miss me; that's why she was sad. We were friends now and I was just going to disappear into the forest which sent back unhappy people that grew old with back problems and arthritis.

"Yeah. I guess we won't be seeing much of each other anymore."

But then she invited me over for dinner to meet her parents, the people who had been giving me these small little gifts for weeks now. I accepted her invitation and told her I would meet her in the square at 5 oclock. Hours later, I was sitting on the same steps where we always met; I just took a dip in the lake just outside the fence on the opposite side of the district. At least some of the dirt was gone and I looked somewhat presentable.

She appeared in a little evening dress with flowers and lace that barely touched her knees. I was there in my dark jeans and an olive green low cut shirt that her father had made for me. The dinner was fun. I had to pace myself so I wouldn't overindulge my senses, so to speak. They served a creamy pumpkin soup with warm fresh bread from the bakery. There was a huge turkey and fresh salad. It had been a while since I ate so well. Her parents spoke to me and the night ended with them offering a room for me to stay in. I had nothing to give to them but once again I was in no position to deny it.

Two years passed and now I was standing in the forest, gripping my father's ax tightly. The muscles up my arms rippled and I looked out at the forest. I wiped the sweat off my foreheard and smiled at my work: a fallen pine tree, about 20 feet tall. It would bring in good money. That morning I decided to go out and work for a little bit before the reaping, just to get some anger out. The games were horible. They send twenty-four kids in and only one comes out. It was sick, but there was nothing we could do about it.

Cassie told me to meet her right at the fence for breakfast before we went to the reaping for the 24th Annual Hunger Games. We usually ate lunch on the steps of the Justice Building while talking to some Peacekeepers who were rather lax with their whole job. Two sixteen year olds sitting there eating weren't big deals in the grand scheme of things. One day I wanted to bring her out into the forest so she could get some sense of freedom, even if there was another fence out there somewhere with Peacekeepers guarding it. Unfortunately they only let workeers outside the first fence, so they could keep a strict count of people going in and out. So we resorted to just eating in our normal spot. Today was just different. The Capitol set up gigantic televisions and roped off areas for the reaping today. No one was allowed into the square until reaping time: one o'clock. We settled for eating right by the fence the first year I was without my dad. Now it was just a tradition.

I made my way through the trees and got back to the "electric fence". Sure it had warning signs of electric voltage, but it was hardly ever on. Through the gate I went, checking in with the Peacekeepers standing guard there. Then I saw her, sitting there with a little basket, hair in a small bun and her trademark eye liner covering her eyes. I walked over, dropped the ax on the green grass, sat criss-cross applesauce on the floor, and wiped the sweat off my forehead yet again. "Looks like you had fun today," she chuckled, pointing to my sweaty shirt.

Both of us laughed. "Yeah, fun day in the forest doing back breaking labor," I mumbled.

"Hey, you chose to keep working here. Dad said you could help him sew and deliver clothes," she pointed out. This was true. Her dad offered me a job at his store, but it was doing feminine things that I never had a mother to teach me to do. I never learned to sew, cook, or do anything motherly I suppose.

"Cassie, are you nervous...about today I mean? Are you nervous they're going to pick you?" I implored taking a bite of an apple. Even she was scared about it, there was no reason for her to be. She wouldn't go in the arena. I wouldn't let her. My name was in there nine times. I had taken out tesserae for three years but when I joined Cassie's family they wouldn't let me take anymore. Her name was only in four times. The odds were in both of our favors. If for some odd chace they happened to pick her name out of the glass reaping bowl, I had decided I would volunteer for her. She had a family, a good life, friends, and a career set out for her. No one needed me around and if I died, it wouldn't really matter to anyone. I promised myself that at the first reaping we went to together. The two that we have gone to, we both stand there and hold each other's hand tightly, praying that our name wouldn't get called. There were thirteen slips though. Thirteen that would make me get up on that stage and say goodbye to my family.

"Look, Laurel, don't even think about getting reaped. There's no way in hell you're gonna get picked. There has to be a thousand slips in the ball. You've only got your name in there nine times. Neither of us are going to get reaped. Don't worry about it," she stated, ripping the bread apart and handing me a piece. I guess she was right, but that didn't help settle my nerves.

About an hour later we were getting ready to go to the square. I stepped in front of the mirror wearing my white blouse with a light blue skirt that went a little below my knees. I pulled my long brown hair back into a bun and slipped my black flats on. Then Cassie walked in looking absolutely beautiful in her light blue sleevless dress that barely touched her knees. She left her short hair down.

"You look great," I remarked and we both smiled, embracing each other in a tender hug. I reminded myself of the promise.

Minutes later we were in the square, already sectioned off from her parents, my parents. I held her hand tightly and sucked on my index finger as to stop the bleeding from when the Peacekeepers pricked my finger. She squeezed my hand and I gently squeezed back letting a small smile creep up to my lips.

Right as the clock strikes one, the mayor, a very short and stout bald man, steps up to the podium and begins his long spech about the history of Panem, the country that rose out of the ashes of a place that was once called North America. It's the same story every year. He talks about all the droughts and the disasters. The result was Panem, a shining Capitol ringed by thirteen districts, which brought peace and prosperity to its cititzens. Then there was the Dark Days, the uprising of the districts against the Capitol. Twelve were defeated and the thirteenth obliterated. The Treaty of Treason gave us the new laws to guarantee peace and, as our yearly reminder that the Dark Days should never be repeated, it gave us the Hunger Games.

Taking the kids from our districts, forcing them to kill one another while we watch-this is the Capitol's new way of reminding us that we are totally at their mercy. The rules of the Hunger Games are simple. In punishment for their uprising, each of the twelve districts must provide one male and female, called tributes, to participate. The twenty-four tributes will be imprisoned in a vast outdoor arena that could hold anything from a burning desert to a freezing wasteland. Over a period of several weeks, the competitors must fight to the death. The last tribute standing wins. They receive a life of ease back home, and their district will be showered with prizes, largely consisting of food. All year, the Capitol will show the winning district gifts of oil and grain and even delicacies like sugar while the rest of us battle starvation.

"It is both a time for repentance and a tim for thanks," the mayor states.

Next he reads the list of the previous victors for Distict Seven. In the past twenty-four years, we have only had one: a young man, about twenty five years of age, named Don Fairbain. He won the games when he was eighteen, thirteen years ago. He beheaded the other tribute and came back to District Seven drowned in his riches and glory, yet he dressed like a simple man. He always had a smile on his face. Don stood up from his chair and waved to the people for a moment before sitting back down.

The mayor then introduced Gem Wellwood, District Seven's Capitol escort. Her whole outifit was rather outlandish. She waddled to the podium in her ridiculously tall heels. She gave everyone her trademark, "Happy Hunger Games and may the odds be ever in your favor! The time has come to select one lucky boy and girl to have the honor of representing District Seven in the 24th Annual Hunger Games. Ladies first," she said in her Capitol accent.

It was so quiet you could probably hear a pin drop from the other side of the square. This was the moment that everyone dreaded, the moment when two unlucky kids became contenders in the most dangerous game ever. Gem waddled toward the glass ball on the girl's side. She slipped her hand in and swirled her hand around. She pulled out a slip and I took a deep breath. I was praying, hoping that the slip she held in her hands wasn't one that would force me to sign my death certificate. Slowly, she opened the slip and smoothed it out. The next two words out of her mouth shocked me and I realized something.

I would have to keep my promise.


	2. Chapter 2

My heart thudded in my chest and there was a ringing in my ears. "Cassandra Galloway," Gem read in her bubbly Capitol voice. No there had to be some mistake. There was no way she could get picked. The odds were entirely in her favor. There was no way she would go into the arena.

I could feel her hand slip from mine, but even that couldn't pull me out of my shocked trance. My mind was reeling. How could she have been the one? How could I go in? What really snapped me out of my own world was a relieved sigh and two girls in front of me hugging as Cassie made her way up toward the stairs. She was barely a foot away from the stairs leading to the stage when I let out a scream. "No Cassie!" I yelled, forcing my way between some girls. "Cassie!" Everyone made a straight path for me to get to the aisle.

When Cassie turned around, I could see her face shrouded in absolute terror. It was clear she was holding back her tears. Two Peacekeepers grabbed my forearms and began to pull me backwards as I screamed for Cassie. All of the cameras were focused on me and with the next two words I signed my death certificate.

"I volunteer!" I screeched, panic evident in my tone.

Cassie's eyes widened in even more fear and I saw her mouth the word no. But there was nothing she could do: the words were already said, the deed done. I was going into the Hunger Games, facing twenty-three other teenagers who had their minds set on making it. The only way out of the games was to win, to be the last person standing. There was no way, though, that a girl from seven could survive, even if I could use an ax. But for Cassie, I would try as hard as I could.

"Excellent! It seems as though we have a volunteer! Do come up dear," Gem replied happily into the microphone, motioning for me to come up and join her on the stage.

The Peacekeepers released me and Cassie ran over to me, wrapping her arms tightly around my chest. "Laurel. How could you do that?" she croaked into my shoulder allowing her tears to flow freely now.

As much as I wanted to hug her and cry with her, I pushed her away and looked straight into her red eyes. Her precious face was stained with tears. She was shaking slightly and it took all my strength to keep my composure as I watched her. "Go," I barely managed to say. "Go get out of here. I'll be okay. Just go."

She shook her head and went to hug me again, but I knew that if she did she would never let go. Gently, I placed my hand on her shoulder keeping an arms distance between us. That's when the Peacekeepers gripped her and began to pull her back, when the screams that were bottled up inside her came to life. She yelled and struggled against them and even fiber of my body wanted to help her. Hearing her shout my name over and over again as I walked toward the stairs pained me. They were desperate screams that rang in my ears. I could never, nor would I ever, forget those bloodcurdling screams that seemed to rise in panic as I got further up the stairs. Then suddenly, they stopped. My hands were shaking slightly and I could feel the tears building up, attempting to seep out of my eyes in slow steady streams. I restrained my sobs and my sadness but I didn't know how much longer I could keep it all bottled up inside.

I reached the top step and Gem motioned for me to come closer to her. So I did, taking normal steps until I got a few feet away from her. "That was all quite exciting! What is your name, dear?" Gem asked.

"Laurel Greenlaw."

Gem smiled and repeated my name into the microphone for all of Panem to hear, to make it official that I was actually going into the games, and to ensure that everyone knew who I was, at least, before I died a long painful death. My eyes scanned the crowd below me, all the sorry people that I never met, who never helped me. They looked up at me with pity.

"Now for the boys," Gem said, waddling over to the other bowl set on the opposite side of the stage. Her hand swirled around yet again and I waited for her to say the name of a boy that might potentially kill me. "Titus Lockhearst."

I've never talked to him, but yet the name seems so familiar. My eyes wander to the boys as I attempted to find my opponent.

A young boy with dark brown, dishelved hair that stuck up slightly in the front stepped forward. As he got closer, I would see how defined his features really were. His eyes, though, seemed to change. I couldn't tell if they were green or a very light brown, so I settled for hazel. In a way, they kind of reminded me of Cassie's eyes. _Cassie...How does she feel now? _My thoughts drifted with my eyes and they moved down his body, noticing his muscles suffocating within his brown shirt. His face hung indifferently; he had no emotion, no fear, no nervousness, completely unemotional.

Gem asks for volunteers, but apparently there is no one so _eager_ as I was to jump into the games. The mayor stood up again and read the long, dull Treaty of Treason as it is required, but I don't listen. I'm too busy thinking about how I'm going to survive, if I'll even make it home. As the mayor finishes his dreary speech, he motions for Titus and me to shake hands. I decide that I might as well show him my strength by giving his hand a strong squeeze. His eyes light up in surprise and he manages a small smile. I look into his hazel eyes and that's when I realize that winning may be harder than I thought it would. Gem closed with her trademark, "Happy Hunger Games and may the odds be ever in your favor."

The odds, it seemed, were never in my favor. Just when I thought I was safe, I had to volunteer to save someone I loved. The anthem blares as we turn out toward the crowd so they can get a very good look at us. The second the anthem ends Titus and I are whisked away, marched into the Justice Building and then separated. I get sent into a luxuriously decorated room.

The carpets are plush and my feet seem to sink a little into it. The chairs and counchs are entirely velvet and arranged around a silver and glass coffee table. Paintings of President Snow, past mayors, and the landscape of District 7 line the walls. The ceilings are high and surprisingly there is a lit fireplace. Immediately I go toward the window and sit on the little bench, looking out at the District. This was the time when family came in to say goodbye to the tributes. I couldn't afford to get upset, though. If I wanted sponsors I had to show them that I was strong both physically and emotionally.

The first person that came to visit me was Cassandra. Her eyes are still red and there are still tears finding their way down her young face. Her eyeliner is smudged and I realize that this will be one of the last moments I may have with her, ever. Immediately, we embrace each other and for a few moments she sobs into my shoulder, her back rippling and body shaking. I want to tell her it will be okay but I know that that would be a lie. I can't lie to her now.

"Cassie," I began and pulled back, hushing her gently, "Cassie, I don't know what's going to happen to me, but I want you to know that I'll always be there for you, even if I don't win."

"You have to try! Please, promise that you'll try to win," she cried, her voice desperate and breaking in between her sobs. "Please. I can't lose you. You're my only friend. You have to win." I was trying not to cry. Out of the two of us, one had to be strong and so far she was failing at it.

"Just for you, I'll give it everything that I've got," I avowed, attempting to console her but to no avail.

"You're so stupid, you know that? How could you do that? How could you volunteer for me? I-I can't just let you die for me," she chastised, staring right into my eyes. Hers were still dripping tears. Then she did something; it was something I didn't think she was capable of. She reached her hand up and slapped me hard across the face.

I took a step back from her, holding my stinging cheek. "What was that for?" I quipped.

"For volunteering for me!"

A part of me didn't want to tell her that I had been planning this for a while now, that I made a promise with myself in order to keep her safe. Another wanted to tell her just so she would know, in case I did die in the arena. Then I thought that it would make her feel guilty, but against my better judgement, I spilled my plan. "Two years ago, at our first reaping together, I realized that there was a small chance you could get reaped. I decided then that I would volunteer for you if you did get chosen because you had a good life set out for you. I just-I couldn't bear to live without my sister. There's a lot of people who need you here and they need you, but me-" I paused, "there's no one that needs me."

Her eyes softened and she stepped close to me, taking my face in both her hands and forcing me to look in her eyes. "Don't you get it? I need you!"

The Peacekeeper appeared in the doorway and her eyes filled with panic. She wrapped her arms around me tightly. "Do whatever you have to, just come back to me." She clung tightly to me and I had to pry her hands off of me. Before walking toward the door, she peeled off her bracelet and thrust it my hands. "I love you!"

And then she was gone.


	3. Chapter 3

_**AN: Thank you so much for 110 views! You all are great! I hope you all enjoy. Please read and review. Thanks!**_

I sat there for a few minutes thinking about what Cassie said. Her words reverberated in my mind. _I need you. _Now, even though it was going to be hard, I had to win so that I could get back to my family. But even if I died in the arena, at least it wasn't Cassie. At least she would get to enjoy the rest of her life. Her bracelet was in my hands. I looked down at it as to finally see what it was: a gold band with her name etched on the inside. The outer part was etched in a series of intricate patterns almost resembling tree branches or maybe sewing patterns. A small sad smile creeped up to my lips and I slipped the bracelet on my wrist, shuddering slightly from the cold.

My next visitor was actually quite unexpected: the baker, who kept me alive those weeks after my dad died, even if all he could spare was burnt bread. He was a very heavily built man and his hair resembled salt and pepper, a luxury I became accustom to at the Galloway residence with Cassie. His face was lined with a very small smile and his dark brown eyes were soft. "I'm very sorry that this happened to you," he whispered. "It pains me to see a good girl like you going off to participate in their sick games."

I didn't really know what to say to that, so I looked down and mumbled, "Yeah."

"We'll be supporting you here. The way you volunteered for her...it stunned all of us," he said, looking at me.

My hand trailed the velvet fabric on the bench and I plopped down upon it. "Thank you," I breathed.

"Stay strong. You can make it through this," he said and then left a small roll of bread on the table before getting up and leaving on his own accord.

I eyed the roll and the second he stepped out I grabbed it from the table with almost greedy hands. Lunch had begun to wear off and I needed a little pick me up. I ripped it in two and ended up eating all of it before my next visitors came in: my makeshift parental figures. I could tell that they were trying their hardest to keep it all together for my sake.

Mr. and Mrs. Galloway became my parents the second I moved into their spare room. Ever since then, they've taken care of me, made sure I ate and had good clothes. If it wasn't for them I probably woldn't have made it many more weeks after my dad's death. Their faces were lined and sad, shadowed almost. Their eyes were soft and glassy as if they were both about to cry.

I swallowed the last bit of the roll and went straight toward them, into their warm tender arms that had kept away so much evil over the past two years. They hugged me tightly and that was when she started to cry. I sniffled a little but kept it all in, knowing there would be cameras at the train station. For minutes we just embraced each other. There was absolutely nothing to say, nothing to make this all better. I could feel her tears hit my shoulder. He was doing well at keeping it all together, the man that made me those dark jeans. The tailor and his wife were holding me, their adopted daughter, in their arms.

When the Peacekeeper came back to get them and me, I whispered into his chest, "I'm sorry. I love you."

He shook his head and responded back, saying, "There is no need to be sorry." Then he paused. "Thank you for saving her."

She was a blubbering mess but she somehow managed to croak, "I love you," before they were pulled out of the room.

From the lavish Justice Building, I was transported to the train station by car. It was interesting and almost enjoyable, although it was very short. I sat next to Titus and he flashed a smile at me. I wished I could give one back to him. My decision not to cry definitely paid off. The station was full of cameramen who pointed their cameras at Titus and me. I tried my best to avoid them, but with over thirty screaming and shouting for me to look in their direction, it is really hard. Gem, Don, Titus and I all climb up the stairs to get onto the train, but Gem makes us stand there for a few minutes so that the cameras can get lots of pictures of us. I smile and wave a little bit because being friendly couldn't hurt much right? I desperately needed sponsors if I was going to even make it close to winning.

After minutes of photographers mercilessly taking pictures of us, we are finally let onto the train. It's even better than the Justice Building room. Gem gives a tour and Avoxes follow us. It turned out that we each had a private bedroom, bathroom and dressing room. The coolest thing about the train, though, was that you couldn't even feel it moving.

I snuck into my room and looked around. The drawers were filled to the brim with clothes and they were all my size. I was allowed to wear all of them; everything was at my disposal. Gem told me to meet in the dining car in about an hour and a half so that Titus and I could talk to Don about strategies. I had more time than I knew what to do with and I didn't want to start thinking because once I started there was no way for me to stop. Every thought that entered my head I pushed away. My hand gently wrapped around my other wrist and that's when I remembered that I had Cassie's bracelet. I turned it around my wrist for a while and laid down in bed, sinking down into the plush comforter. It was even more comfortable than my bed at home, if that was even possible. My whole body relaxed and without really thinking at all I fell asleep, only to have a nightmare.

I was running. Toward what, I don't know because I never got there. At first, I thought it was just a normal dream, but I saw Cassie standing in front of me crying and as I went to run toward her, a hand gripped me and covered my mouth and nose. I struggled and tried to fight my assailant but my air began to run low. The last thing I remember before waking up was locking eyes with Cassie and hearing her say, "No one needs you. I hate you!"

I woke up screaming in my plush Capitol bed. Tears that I had kept inside me for so long streamed down my face. This whole thing was messed up: the games, the Capitol, the entire system. There was no way I could come back home, no way I could beat people who have trained their whole life for this. I was going to die and now, I was just beginning to embrace the probability of my imminent death. So what if I promised Cassie I would make it back?

Some promises just weren't made to keep. I would try my hardest and accept my death when it came, knowing that there was nothing I could do to stop it. This was decided in my mind, but there was some part of me that said I wouldn't just roll over and die in the arena. That was the strong part, the one that kept me going after my dad died. It seemed as though that part wasn't ready to give up.

I wiped away the tears and calmed myself down just minutes before Gem walked in to collect me for our meeting. I followed her through the narrow rocking corridor into the dining room. The walls were polished, panelled. In the center was a table, looked like mahogany, with crazy amounts of food on top of it. I had never seen so much food in one room, even at the Galloway's! Titus sat with his trademark unemotional face one. The chair next to him was empty so I sat down. He turned to me and smiled.

Seconds later, Don walked in. "So you two are the very unlucky kids that have the honor of suffering in the arena," he said carefully. He chose his words cautiously. "I'm really sorry, but know that I'll do everything in my power to try to get you two out." Then he paused, taking a deep breath. "There is only one victor though, right?"

Only one victor, and no matter how hard it was going to be to win, I would be the one on a hovercraft heading back to District 7 alive. I would be their victor.

"You both know how sponsors work, I hope. One of you has already caused quite a stir in the Capitol," he said, smirking and looking at me. "Who was that girl you volunteered for?"

Cassie. He wanted to know who she was but how could I explain her? My friend? No that was too loose. No one would ever volunteer for just a friend. My sister? We weren't born together, so that wouldn't work well, literally. "Someone that's really close to me," I said, voice strong.

Don nodded slowly and grabbed a muffin from the plate, taking a gigantic bite out of it. He was formulating something in his mind, or at least that's what it seemed like. Suddenly, he turned and looked at Titus. "Kid, you gotta show some emotion. More than the occasional smile. You need to show the Capitol you have some personality because right now you're giving me nothing to work with. They want a good show. They want good characters who they can fall in love with. Make them fall in love with you, like they have with Laurel."

The Capitol liked me? "Why?" I whispered. "Why do they like me?"

"Because you showed some major guts by volunteering for her. It was exciting, seeing as there are rarely any volunteers from the outer districts. You are one of the first tributes in years that has actually given me something good to work with. All you have to do is make an even bigger impression: more smiling, play up your bravery and volunteering, push your situation, seem grateful for the oppurtunity to be in the Capitol, talk about the food and how it is, how different it is. Give them the show they want. It's really one big popularity contest," Don rambled, but I caught every word. He was the man that could control my survival in the arena. A blanket or some food could mean the difference between life and death in the arena. "Let's go watch the recap of the reapings so you all can see what you're up against."

We go into another car and sit on a plush couch as an Avox turns on the screen. As the recap begins, I notice that Titus' face has softened a little; Don's words got to him. One by one we saw the other reapings, the names called, the volunteers that step forward or, more often, not. We examined the faces of the kids who be our competitors. Many stand out to me. All of the Careers from Districts 1 and 2 that lunge forward before their escort even reads the name. A girl from District 3 with green eyes and black hair who takes the stage with a sad face, yet the tears don't fall down. The District 4 boy with only four fingers on one hand.

They showed our reaping. Cassie being called, and me running forward to volunteer for me. You could hear the desperation in my voice as I screamed her voice. The tears streaming down her face. I sit there in the Capitol train car with my knees pulled to my chest, trying to forget about it all, to put myself in a mindset where I only focus on my betterment. They called Titus' name and he took the stage. The commentators quipped about my bravery and courage. They said that District 7 would be a force to be reckoned with this year. The reapings go on, but I don't watch the rest. I'm caught up in my own realm and besides the outer districts are never much competition anyway. Except District 7.

After the reapings are over we all go back to the dining room where there are Avoxes waiting to serve us dinner. Of course, like everything else on the train, the dinner was rather grandiose. It comes in courses. First is the thick carrot soup plopped into our bowls. Next, the salad with even more carrots. Following that was the main course: lamb chops and mashed potatoes. Before the Avoxes served us the chocolate cake, they set small platters of fruit and cheese down in front of us. Gem kept reminded us to save room for later because it seemed as though the endless buffet of food was just getting started.

After the supper, everyone dispersed to their own rooms. I slipped back into my room and sat on the edge of the bed looking out the train window at the passing landscape. I imagined District 7; what were they all doing? What was Cassie doing? Did they have their blinds shut and lights off? Were they crying at home? There had to be more tears.

My eyes felt heavy but I knew that if I fell asleep I would wake up to a nightmare minutes later. Imagining my home made me ache inside. It had been a long day full of goodbyes and sadness. Had Cassie and I only eaten lunch in the afternoon? Had I said goodbye to my loved ones today? Or was that another day? The hours were all drawn out, moving by slowly. After a few more minutes of thought, I stood up and walked over to the dresser.

My hands ran over several nightgowns, all made of some fancy fabrics that Mr. Galloway probably had in his store. I pulled one out and look at it before putting it back. All of these remind me of home and right now I can't afford to think about that. I peeled off my blouse and skirt, tossing them across the room but then walking over to neatly fold them because I didn't want the Avoxes to do it. The last thing I do before jumping into bed is close my curtains, for fear that the morning light would wake me up sooner than I wanted.

I allowed the train to rock me to sleep, hoping that I wouldn't have any nightmares.


	4. Chapter 4

**Sorry friends! Long time no post! Here's a new chapter for all of you. Enjoy! R & R please. **

The next morning I woke up to the curtains being pulled open by the Avoxes. My eyes fluttered open and I squinted, attempted to get accustomed to the light. The Avox, a girl with blonde hair, motioned toward the door.

"Oh, breakfast?" I asked and she nodded. Slowly, I pulled myself out of bed and slipped on blue jeans and a long sleeved purple shirt before walking through the tribute train to breakfast.

The side of the car was covered with food more than last night, if that was possible. There were eggs and slices of bread with at least ten assorted jams. My eyes settled of a platter of baked delicacies. I attacked the platter greedily, stacking three on my plate with a side of eggs and potatoes. As soon as I settle down to eat, Don and Gem walk in. He has a mug full of some steamy drink while she has a see-through glass full of a mysterious blue liquid.

"Good morning!" Gem chirps and sits at the head of the table, sipping her drink. "A rather splendid morning it is, don't you think Laurel?"

I would've answered her but my mouth was full of pasteries and orange juice so I settled for a nod. Seconds later, Titus came into the car with his hair ruffled and eyes puffy. So much for emotionless. It was pretty clear he had been crying all night. He didn't bother with food but rather sat next to me and stared out the window.

"How far are we from the Capitol?" I asked, wiping my fingers on a lavender napkin.

Don put his mug on the table and looked out the window. "Almost there actually. About ten minutes or so. Get ready to be consumed by swarms of people. The first thing that's going to happen to you two is you will meet your Prep Teams. I want you to do everything they tell you, absolutely no objections. It doesn't matter if they irritate you a lot. This is the Capitol-there are going to be a lot of those annoying people, but they will be your sponsors." Ugh. More Capitol people. More dolls with their faces plastered on and dyed, hair done up in ridiculous styles. Don was right though. I had to keep making an impression if I wanted to even survive the first night.

I finished my first plate of food and go back for only some type of purple melon. We never had this back at home. It tastes sweet like watermelon. I consumed it quickly and sat back in my chair. An Avox stepped forward, immediately, to take it.

That's when the whole compartment went dark, no more light seeping in from the outside. Perhaps we were in a tunnel that ran through the mountains to the Capitol. I got up like an eager child and stood at the window, waiting for the first glance of the shimmering center of Panem. The tunnel went on and on until finally slowing down slightly.

And then I caught my first glimpse at the Capitol in all it's grandeur. The television never did it justice. It was overwhelming. The buildings shot up into the heavens, painted bright colors almost painful to the eyes. Capitol people dressed up in bizarre outfits pointed and cheered at us, recognizing the tribute train. I waved and smiled at them, finally stopping when we pulled into the station. This whole time, Titus sat at the table motionless, numb, Don sipped his drink and Gem watched me at the window. I sat back down at the table and looked at everyone else. Titus' eyes held a certain anger or frustration. Was he angry that I was capturing the hearts of the Capitol people, who don't even qualify as people?

Thirty minutes later, I was in the Remake Center. My Prep Team was ripping every strand of unnessecary hair off of me which was a lot. Volumnia was waxing my legs as Garric tweezed my face. I gripped the edges of the metal table and clenched my eyes shut as the hair on my legs was forcefully removed. I couldn't yell at them or struggle due to Don's orders, even though I wanted to. Garric had already pulled out the thick eyebrows and waxed my lip. My whole body was smooth and aching until they put some type of cream on me that soothed my skin. They finished and escorted me in a room to wait for my stylist: Crucis.

I sat there for a few minutes waiting for this Crucis guy to show up. What I expected was not what I got, though. He was dressed like a Capitol person but had the voice of a normal human being. His face wasn't plastered with makeup but his outfit was rather outlandish. Like his face, his hair was rather natural: a black cut that reminded me of Titus' in a way.

"Hello. I'm your stylist, Crucis," he said in his normal voice. I was taken aback at how he conducted himself as well. No crazy hugs and weird kisses on the cheek. He walked in and stood in front of me. "Would you mind taking off your robe?"

So polite. I untied the fabric knot and shrugged the silky robe off. He circled around me once, whispering, "Just give me a second. Very nice. Your opening ceremonies outfit will fit just fine."

He stood once more in front of me and handed me my robe. "Let's eat lunch and talk about what you'll be wearing." A tree. Every year the District 7 tributes are dressed like trees. It's stupid. There's no variety, no Douglas firs and pine. We never got anything spectacular. _This was a moment where I can shine and I'll be dressed like a tree. _

We stepped into a separate room with two green couches facing a lower table. One wall of the room was made of only glass so I can see outside. The sun was up and shining into the room. It must be around noon or one. Crucis pressed a button and the table split in half. Rising from below was a tray that held our lunch of chicken and a fancy rice with cooked vegetables on the side. There was a small basket of rolls and two glasses of water. He handed me a plate and took his own; we both started eating.

"Laurel, for the opening ceremonies I've decided to change up District Seven's look."

"No more trees and lumberjacks?" I asked hopefully.

"Well," he responded hesistantly taking a bite out of his chicken, "you see, my partner and I have decided to dress you and Titus up in costumes that show off your bodies."

_Naked. We're both going to be naked._

"Our bodies? Are we going to have a costume?" I asked fearfully.

"Your bodies. District Seven tributes are muscular. You both have fantastic bodies and I would like to showcase that. I promise you wont be naked. Not as close to it at least."

A few hours later I was dressed in a green skirt that had a cut in the front of it. The edges frayed and were a lighter green as though they were leaves or vines from a tree. Crucis gave me brown sandals, resembling gladiator shoes, that covered my shins but had straps all the way up my calf. My arms were covered in painted designs of vines and leaves. My stomach was exposed but he put me in a small green top that covered only my breasts. The vines were all interconnected. There were brown bands just above my biceps and a tiny brown ax necklace around my neck. They let me wear my bracelet from Cassie. The vines traveled up my neck and onto my cheeks connected to a mask made of leaves that covered only my eyes. Volumnia teased my hair and made it quite voluminous. Crucis and my prep team stepped back to admire their work.

"Absolutely stunning. You will surely make an impression," Crucis said, a smirk on his face. "Don't smile and don't wave. Look straight ahead and keep an emotionless face, like Titus."

A small smile crept onto my lips. "Thank you," I whispered. They rushed me to the District Seven chariot, a brown one pulled by four magestic brown houses that were so well trained no one had to hold the reins.

Titus came out with his prep team following behind him. We did have very similar costumes, except he only had vines on his very well defined chest. The Capitol would surely fall in love with him. All around us the other tributes are getting the finishing touches on their costumes. Shortly after, the Capitol anthem blares, signalling the start ot the ceremony. Both of us stepped onto the chairot as the District Four one pulled out of the Training Center. "Hold hands."

And we did, intertwining ougave tr fingers. I wondered what the Galloways would think of how I was dressed. I wonder if they were even watching. The District Six chariot moved forward and soon enough so did ours. I held on so tightly to Titus, trying not to fall out of the back. He held his stance firmly, not wavering at all.

We entered the city and I saw the huge crowd amassed in the stands, each one of them was eagerly watching. They diverted their attention from the other tributes and stared at us, looking down at their programs to find our names. _Keep an emotionless face, like Titus._ We looked straight ahead and the crowd cheered for us.

"District Seven! District Seven!" they chanted. "Laurel! Laurel!" I lifted my chin a bit higher and found it harder to not look at all of the Capitol people, to smile and wave to them. The anthem blared but you could still hear them chanting for us. This year only District Seven stood out. Only we made an impression. The costumes made us look like mystical creatures, ones that appear and yet conquer. That or we seemed to some as muscular savages, clothed in vines and leaves. We, though, were not trees. We were the ferocious tributes from District Seven who weren't afraid and weren't going to give up. Our attention was still ahead, toward the President's mansion. The twelve chariots filled the loop of the City Circle and pull up to the President's mansion.

President Caldwell Snow, a very heavy man in his late sixties with white hair, gave the welcome speech from atop the balcony of his mansion. Next to him was his son, Coriolanus, a young man in his mid-twenties who had black hair and piercing brown eyes. When President Caldwell was done with the speech, the chariots paraded around the City Circle once more before disappearing into the Training Center. Immediately, Titus and I are swarmed by our prep teams who praise our performances. Other tributes around us shot dirty looks our direction. Our hands part and I look in Titus' eyes. We both smile, uneasily, at each other.

We got swept away to an elevator that will take us up to Floor Seven. Each district had an entire floor. I had never ridden an elevator so I was rather apprehensive about it. The walls of the elevator were crystal so you could see out of it and watch all the people below you. It was rather exhilarating and scary. We approached a door with a tree etched into it. _Of course...a tree._ I sighed but then Crucis opened the door. I was shocked at the lavishness of the entire apartment.


End file.
